Just Communication
by Hanako A
Summary: Somewhere along the line Hermione forgot to mention to Draco that her friends already knew about the two of them, and vice versa. Which was the reason why they were still sneaking around like pair of teenagers, afraid about getting caught.


**Just Communication**

**Disclaimer:** HP is still not mine.

* * *

Hermione quietly closed the door behind her, slowly as to make as little noise as possible. Even though the telly was blaring, her boys were very adept at hearing the slightest sound that was out of place, a skill honed during what should have been their seventh year. She began to walk cautiously towards her room. With a little bit of luck—well, make that a lot of luck—she would be able to get there before either of them realized that she was home early.

"Don't even bother, Hermione," Harry called out. "We know you're there."

"Yeah," agreed Ron. "So why don't you just get over here so we can interrogate you about the night's activities?"

Hermione sighed. She had failed to get by them. Again. It happened so often that she suspected that they had placed some sort of charm to be informed whenever she arrived home after she left on one of her dates. Of course, she had checked to see if any charm of that sort was in place over the flat and she hadn't found a thing. Still it was uncanny the way those two always seemed to know when she was home.

Her head raised high, Hermione walked into the living room of the flat she shared with her two best friends, who were both lounging around on the sofa. Upon seeing her, Harry turned off the telly, and then turned around to join Ron in looking at her expectantly.

"So have anything to tell us?" asked Ron.

"You're not my parents," she informed them. "So you hardly have the right to interrogate me."

"But we're practically your older brothers," Ron countered. "That's all the right we need."

"How can you be my older brothers when I know for a fact that you're both younger than me?"

"That doesn't mean anything," said Harry, waving his hand around lazily. "I thought you weren't going to be home till later."

"It's not even midnight yet," Ron noted. "And you have no boyfriend in tow to introduce to us. Really Hermione, I'm beginning to wonder if the git is worth sneaking around for."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Please. It's not as though I'm keeping any secrets from you. I told you who he is."

"But he hasn't told us," said Ron. "And I don't see why not. We're mostly harmless."

"Speak for yourself, Ron, speak for yourself."

"Not helping here, Harry. We're trying to convince Hermione that Malfoy has nothing to fear from us."

"So long as he treats her right," Harry added. "Because if he doesn't…well, I always did want to.…"

"Stop that," said Hermione. "You both know that he's been nothing but a gentleman."

"A gentleman wouldn't require a lady to sneak around and hide her relationship with him because he's too scared to tell anyone," Harry said pointedly.

"Hear, hear." Ron stretched and then cracked his neck. "And sit down already. Having to keep turning my head to look at you is starting to get painful."

"I was planning on going to bed."

"Alone?"

"Your powers of observation fail to astound me," Hermione snapped. Still she knew that she was unlikely to escape for awhile, so she walked around the sofa and took a seat in the armchair next to it. She didn't want to listen to Ron complain about his neck for the next week if she could help it.

"Someone is feeling snarky tonight," Harry said.

"She can't help it. Her boyfriend decided to end their night early. Again." Ron shook his head. "Have you told him that we're not going to hex him or anything for being with you?"

Both of his friends shot him a disbelieving glare.

"Seriously," said Ron. "I have no complaints. He always gets you home on time, and the only press he gets from the _Daily Prophet_ is how remarkable it is that he's still single. None of Ginny's boyfriends have ever behaved so well. So long as he's willing to renounce his Malfoyness and become a better person, I'm willing to welcome him as your boyfriend." Ron thought about what he had said. "And shave his head, of course. Because I don't think it's possible to renounce being a Malfoy if he keeps that head of shining hair."

"I happen to like his hair," muttered Hermione.

"Covet it, more likely," Harry said.

"Hush you," she sighed. "That's not the problem, Ron. Although I would never ask him to renounce his Malfoyness, as you put it, that might wind up being the end result if he tells his parents about us. Being disowned would be the least of his problems."

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance. "What makes you say that?" asked Harry.

"Everything."

"Has he said as much?" asked Ron.

"No, not in so many words," said Hermione. "But I can tell that's what's holding him back. It's fairly obvious. We had plans for after dinner—Su Li's new art gallery opening—but then he mentioned his parents and it all went downhill from there. It was clear that he didn't want to risk running into them. We wound up going to a café to talk for awhile, and that was it." She sighed.

Another glance was exchanged by her best friends.

"I don't know, Hermione," said Ron. "It's kind of hard to tell what anyone is thinking, no matter how well you know the person."

"Yeah," said Harry. "For all you know, his reluctance might be because he thinks you're too scared to tell _us_."

Hermione bit her lip, then shook her head. "No. I don't think so. I've dropped hint after hint implying that you both already know."

"You should still talk to him. It's not natural, Hermione, to hide your relationship this way for so long."

"It's been, what ten months?" said Ron. "I can't believe you could consider having this go on for an entire year, Hermione. If he's not willing to brave his parents for you…."

"Then he's not worth it," said Harry.

"And trust me, that's where we'll come in."

"I thought you two were mostly harmless," Hermione said with a sad smile.

"Emphasis on the mostly there."

"And remember, I never agreed to it."

"Thanks," said Hermione. "If you'll excuse me though, I think it's time to get to bed."

"Do you think she'll take our advice?" Harry asked after she left.

Ron snorted. "Since when did Hermione take advice from us? Sometimes I swear that girl still thinks we're a pair of first years."

"True enough. So are we not going to do anything?"

"Harry," said Ron with a note of exasperation in his voice, "have we ever been known as the types to sit back and do nothing?"

"Right. We've given them enough time."

"Exactly. So glad you're finally on the same page here."

* * *

Draco looked at his coffee cup. It was empty. He blinked and looked again. It was still empty. He glared at it. Clearly it was about time that someone invented a coffee cup that refilled itself. In fact, if the cup in front of him knew what was good for it, it would spontaneously transform itself into such. A second before he was going to throw the damn cup against the wall as a sort of object lesson for all cups in the flat, a hand appeared holding the coffee pot and refilled his cup.

Draco immediately reached for his cup and drank from it.

"This is why we need a house elf," his roommate said. "Because Draco still doesn't know how to fend for himself, and I am not his bloody maid."

"No house elves," Draco said, scowling.

"And I've heard a few things about you and a certain costume you wore a couple years back, so I wouldn't mention not being a maid if I were you, Theo," Greg said with a smirk.

Draco grinned when he remembered the Halloween party the three of them had thrown two years ago. Theo had been absolutely smashed when he was putting on his costume, and he had wound up wearing the French maid outfit Pansy had picked out, fishnet stockings and all. It was still hilarious just to think about it.

"You can wipe that stupid grin from your face. Don't forget you're the infamous Slytherin Stud who has turned out to be quite a dud."

Goyle laughed. "He was home before midnight again?"

"I doubt it was even eleven o'clock," said Theo.

"Shut it." Draco ignored his roommates in favor of his coffee.

"You think with how grouchy he is that she had kept him up all night long."

"I think it's the lack of such long nights that's making him unhinged." Theo shook his head sadly. "Draco Malfoy is the last wizard I would have predicted going soft for a witch."

"Please," Draco scoffed. "I am well aware of how much it cost you to buy Pansy's forgiveness after you ruined her costume."

"At least Pansy's willing to acknowledge me in public."

Draco groaned, then finished his coffee. "Don't remind me," he said, crossing his arms on the table and burying his head in the middle. "I've already promised my mother that I'd meet her for lunch. I know that's going to be the first thing she's going to ask me about."

His friends exchanged a glance. "But Draco," said Greg slowly, "I thought they already knew."

Draco raised his head. "They do."

"And they haven't done anything yet, so what do you have to worry about?" asked Theo.

"No, they haven't. I know they weren't pleased when I told them about Hermione, and I know that they're both hoping that this is just a phase." Draco paused to glower at his coffee cup until Theo refilled it for him again. Draco took a sip and continued. "Frankly, if it weren't for the fact that our family name isn't what it used to be, Mother and Father probably would have done something about it. As it is, neither of them are in a position to complain, so whenever Hermione manages to avoid meeting them…well, my mother always takes the chance to try and convince me to move on. And since she knew about my plan to accidentally run into them while I was out with Hermione…well, I'm not really looking forward to lunch."

"Ever consider that your mum has a point?" asked Theo.

"But I….no, I'm not going to push Hermione on this one. I know how much those two idiots mean to her. I'm positive she's trying to figure out a way to break it to them gently."

"Maybe she's more afraid of meeting your parents than anything else," Theo suggested.

"Yeah, your family wasn't exactly pleasant to her back when we were all growing up," Greg added. He coughed. "And her memories of your home…they're probably not the best ones she has."

Draco shook his head. "It's not that. I doubt that she wants to visit them at the manor, but I don't think she's scared of them. She's in the position of power now. There's nothing that they can really do to her."

"Well then maybe she's scared about what they might do to you," Greg suggested.

"Please. She knows my parents love me, just like I know that her parents adore her. We both grew up as spoiled only children." Draco rose from his seat. "But enough of this. I had best get going. I didn't get as much done yesterday at work as I had wanted to."

"Draco, you're your own boss. You can skive off occasionally, and you won't get fired. Not unless you feel like firing yourself so you can have more time to moon over that Gryffindor of yours," Theo said. His suggestion was met by a glare. "Fine. Be that way. Good luck placating your mum later today."

"Thanks. I'll need it."

After their friend had left, Greg asked, "Do you think that he'll have success with that?"

"Not bloody likely," replied Theo. "Pansy always said that Draco's mum and Hermione Granger were two witches she did not want to cross. Something about how both never forgot an insult and would get you back when you least expected it."

"Oh."

"Yeah. A bit of a surprise that Draco would like a witch whose so much like his mum in that regard." Theo tilted his head, reconsidering his words. "Or maybe not, seeing how he was always a bit of a mummy's boy."

* * *

Hermione's desk had not one, but two name plaques, both of them presented to her by her best friends when she had earned her promotion. The one she was most proud of was placed squarely in front of her. _Hermione Granger_, it read, _Department of Magical Law Enforcement, House Elf Squad_.

If she wanted to, Hermione could very well call herself head of the House Elf Squad. However, that would have been very big-headed of her given that she was the only person assigned to that particular squad. The House Elf Squad didn't even provide enough work to keep her busy for a single day in any given month. It was very difficult for her to convince any house elf to come to the Ministry of Magic to file a formal complaint if that elf's family mistreated him or her. Hermione would have loved to do more time for outreach, however her other assignment provided more than enough work.

That was what her other name plaque was for. That one read _Hermione Granger, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Internal Affairs Office_.

Hermione sighed. There were times she wished she had told Kingsley Shacklebolt no when he had suggested assigning her to each of the new divisions. She expected that the only reason why Shacklebolt had been willing to even create the House Elf Squad was to further induce Hermione to take the internal affairs post. If he had told her then that he wasn't going to assigning anyone else to internal affairs because he had no one else he could trust for that department, she probably would have told him no. That particular assignment of hers was the source of many a headache for her. There were just so many different problems in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement that was hard to know where to start.

As of late, Hermione had her plate full investigating all the complaints that had been flying in about the actions of Aurors. Many of them were from families who used to sympathize with Voldemort, looking for a way to delay investigations into their use of dark magic. Half the time, Hermione wanted to file those accusations away in a folder entitled 'Ludicrous and Absurd,' but she couldn't bring herself to do that. She always took the time to look in to each accusation and see if they had any basis, and several times she found out the complaining wizard had told the truth. Invariably that led to more work and more arguments with the Aurors over what constituted proper interrogation tactics. Harry and Ron had even started a list about things they were no longer allowed to do as Aurors.

There were times when she wondered if she was really the best choice for the job. Hermione knew she should be grateful that she had received such a prestigious assignment at the young age of twenty-four, but she felt that she was in over her head far too often. Fortunately things had been improving as of late. Upon his first visit to her office, Draco had remarked that the layout didn't really suit her purposes. He had pointed out changes she could make in order for her visitors to realize that she was the one with all the power so they had best stay on her good side. Remarkably after she had implemented those changes, the interviews she had to conduct generally went better. Also about a month ago, she had finally received her very own secretary, who was a great help all around.

A sharp rap on the door distracted Hermione from her thoughts.

"Excuse me, Hermione," said Allison Moore, the witch assigned to be Hermione's secretary. "There's a witch here who is insisting that she see you immediately to file a complaint. I've told her again and again that she has to schedule an appointment to see you, but she isn't taking no for an answer."

"Lovely. There's at least one of those each week, it seems," said Hermione. She rubbed her temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, Allison. If anything, blame their parents for not teaching them proper manners." Hermione smiled when the other witch laughed. "Do I have any other meetings or formal interviews today?"

Allison shook her head. "No. You just have that one big report due at the end of the week, summarizing all the changes you recommended for the Aurors."

She groaned. "Don't forget the part about how to implement the changes! Unfortunately, I don't think suggesting that beating the recalcitrant ones in the head until they realize they can no longer just run amuck is going to fly," she noted mournfully. "Good thing we cleared my schedule for this week, isn't it. I could never get it done if we hadn't done that." Hermione thought about what to do. She was already finished with the rough draft of the report. She had cleared her afternoon so she could think of more ways to convince the Aurors that her ideas were good ones, but she supposed she could use a bit of a break.

Coming to a decision, Hermione said, "Fine. Let her in."

"Right away? Or should I make her wait?"

Hermione considered that option. "No, you might as well send her in right away. Waiting will probably only make her more difficult."

"That's not the word I would have chosen, but I suppose you're right," said Allison. "I'll be right back."

Hermione shuffled the papers around on her desk, making sure to put away all sensitive documents before her secretary came back with the impromptu visitor. A couple minutes later, another knock sounded on her door. "Come in," Hermione called out, rising from her seat. Hermione narrowed her eyes at the elegant witch who entered, not a single blonde hair out of place.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Malfoy," said Hermione. She sat back down in her seat. "Please have a seat."

The other witch gracefully sat down across from Hermione. "One must compliment you, Miss Granger, for bringing an air of—shall we say civility?—to the Ministry, which I have often found lacking in that regard, particularly in your department." Somehow the older witch managed to look down her nose at Hermione, despite the fact that her small, short chair was a good six inches lower than Hermione's.

Hermione allowed herself to relax slightly. She knew of no investigation into any of the Malfoys, so it made sense for the older witch to be here with a complaint about some Auror being less than polite to her. Hermione was willing to bet that said Auror was either Harry or Ron. She held back a sigh. If she had known the matter was so trivial, she would have required the other witch to make an appointment.

"Thank you," Hermione said simply in response. "My secretary has told me you have a complaint you wish to file." She paused briefly. "If I may be frank, I am surprised to see you hear. The last I heard is that there are no open inquiries into either your or your husband's activities."

"I am not here for myself or my husband, Miss Granger," said Narcissa coldly. "But rather for my son."

"Ah, your son." Hermione could feel herself involuntarily tightening up. She assumed a puzzled expression. "He has become very much the model citizen, I have heard. I don't believe that—"

"Let us not fool around with pretty words, Miss Granger. You are in charge of making sure that all members of your department do not treat any particular wizard in a disparate manner, are you not?"

"Yes, that is one of the primary functions of the Internal Affairs Office." Hermione lifted her chin and stared the other witch straight in the eye. "Why? Is there someone in my department who you believe is mistreating your son?"

"Yes, there is." The older witched leaned forward, a challenging gleam in her eyes. "His girlfriend."

It took all of Hermione's self control not to demand from Narcissa what suspicions the other witch had in regards to her relationship with Draco. "His girlfriend?" she repeated as she raised an eyebrow. "Unless she's abusing her position, I have no grounds upon which to probe her activities with your son."

Narcissa Malfoy openly scoffed at that remark. "Are you certain that you are making an impartial judgment?"

Hermione nodded her head sharply. "If that is all you have to complain about, this meeting is at an end, Mrs. Malfoy. I suggest that you take up any complaints you have about your son's girlfriend with her directly."

"That is exactly what I am doing right now, Miss Granger."

This time, Hermione couldn't stop her reaction. Her jaw dropped. She recovered quickly, looking for something appropriate to say.

Before she could utter a single word, Narcissa rose from her seat. She inclined her head. "I understand that you usually spend Sunday meeting with your friend's family. I expect that you can spare Saturday for Draco. We will anticipate meeting you at _Beaux__ Rêves_ at three." She began to glide towards the door.

Hermione also stood up. "I fail to see why you would expect me to meet you anywhere."

The other witch paused in her steps to glance in Hermione's direction. "You are not stupid, Miss Granger. You understand perfectly well what I am saying. Well, perhaps not." She turned around to face Hermione directly. "Let me make myself perfectly clear. Any witch who treats my son as a skeleton best left hidden in a closet is clearly not worthy of him. I will do everything in my power to ensure that a witch who thinks that it is disgraceful to be in a relationship with my son will not have that problem for long." Narcissa exited the room, leaving Hermione in a haze of confusion.

Hermione slowly let out the breath she had been holding for the last several minutes. She shook her head, trying to get her thoughts back in order. She had no idea how Draco would take the news that somehow his mother had found out about the two of them. She only hoped that he wouldn't do anything too drastic.

"That bad?" asked Allison sympathetically as she peeked her head into Hermione's office.

"You have no idea," Hermione replied.

"Oh, I might. No one does snotty the way the Malfoys do snotty," she remarked cheerfully. She trotted up to Hermione's desk. "A couple of owls arrived for you while you were entertaining that snob."

Hermione sank back into her seat, absently looking at the clock. It read four thirty. "Do you want to take off early today?" Hermione asked. "After that…well, I think I'll just be answering these letters and then getting out of here myself."

"And to think that you have a reputation for being a ferocious boss," her secretary chortled. "I'm glad I didn't trust the rumor mill. I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Yes, good night." Hermione turned her attention to the letters Allison had brought in. One of them was from her best friends. A wry grin crossed Hermione's face as she idly wondered what sort of trouble her boys had got into today. The other was from Draco, and she frantically tore the envelope open. Inside was a short note saying that he had to cancel their plans for their evening. No explanation was given, only a promise that he would owl her again later.

Hermione blinked back her tears. Of course he would find out. His mother probably confronted him before she came over to speak with Hermione. Unfortunately, it appeared that he had taken that knowledge very badly indeed.

Hermione turned her attention to the other envelope, opening it carefully. Inside was a brief letter written in Harry's familiar scrawl.

_Dear Hermione,_

_Before I go any further, I want to remind you how much you adore both me and Ron. We're like the brothers you never had. So please keep that in mind as you read on._

_Seeing as you have no brothers, we took it upon ourselves to let Malfoy know that the current state of things is unacceptable. While making our point, I think we might have broken him. Don't worry. We didn't hurt him or anything like that. He just left, not even bothering to insult us before he did. Which was surprising so we're both worried that the shock might have been a blow to his ego or something. You might want to check up on him._

_Sincerely, _

_Harry_

_P.S. Ron wants to remind you once more that you love us. So please don't do anything permanent. We were only trying to help._

Comprehension started to dawn on Hermione. Harry and Ron had gone to confront Draco today. Maybe that was the reason why he had canceled. Maybe her boys had threatened him in some way, and he felt the need to take some time to best think of a way to deal with them.

That would never do. Draco did not need to worry about Harry and Ron. She was perfectly capable of taking care of those two herself. Hermione stood up and strode out of the room.

She needed to have a conversation with her boyfriend that was long overdue.

* * *

Draco stretched his neck, first to the left and then to the right, wincing at the way it popped both times. Wearily he looked up at the clock. He had been reading proposals for hours, and he still had three more to go. He groaned. There was no way he was going to be able to make a decision today, not unless he found away to speed things up. He had intended to make his picks today for the proposals his institute would sponsor this year, but he was beginning to think that he would be lucky to finish some time this week.

After the war was over, Draco Malfoy had been at a bit of a loss with what to do with himself. He didn't need to work, but at the same time, he needed to do something to take his mind off of everything that had happened. It had taken him almost two years to come up with the idea for the institute. He had always been well aware that he owed a very large debt to Severus Snape for everything that the older wizard had done so that Draco could simply survive. Yet after the war, despite Potter's efforts to memorialize their former professor, it seemed as though Snape was destined to be remembered as the former potions master who loved to make his students' lives hell. So Draco had created the Severus Snape Institute of Potions Research. It was the best memorial he could give to the man who had given up so much and yet received so little in return.

The first year had been rough. There had been several times when he thought that the he wasn't going to be able to push the necessary paperwork through, or that he would have to ask his parents for additional funds for bribes. That was when Hermione Granger had stepped in. Using her connections, she was able to ensure he got the necessary permission to open the experimental potions lab. She had also convinced him to open up the institute to private donations. He had thought her mad when she had suggested it, but a week later, the institute had received its first donation of 10,000 galleons from an anonymous donor. Since then, money had never been a problem especially since that first donor had decided to transform his initial gift into an annual pledge of the same amount for the next five years. Draco had at first suspected his parents were behind the gift, but his father had soon put those suspicions of his to rest. To this day, Draco didn't know the identity of any of the anonymous donors Hermione had been able to find.

The institute was now thriving, and it was Draco's responsibility to choose which research proposals the institute would take on. With money no longer being an issue, the main sticking point was the availability of researchers and appropriate labs. The institute itself had a dozen labs capable of handling the most delicate of experiments. However, because it received at least twice that number of proposals each year alone, Draco had to carefully pick which ones he would support. When possible, research was done at other facilities, but it was hard to find labs that had the same breadth of equipment that the institute had.

So it was that Draco had spent much of his morning reading through the five finalists he had chosen earlier in the year. All of those proposals were brilliant, but he only had room for two of them at his institute, for he was still sponsoring several ongoing projects from previous winners. He had asked each researcher to send him a more detailed proposal and an account ledger listing what the projected expenses would be. He had spent the entire day reading, taking notes here and there, his only break used to meet his mother for lunch. He winced as he remembered how badly that went, his mother all but demanding that he move on from 'a witch who doesn't know what a treasure you are,' was how she put it.

He looked back down at the proposal he had been reading. Randomly he wondered if he should just tack all five on his wall and have a game of darts. The first two he hit would be the two he would go with. Draco was seriously considering this idea when he was intercom suddenly buzzed to life.

He jumped up in his seat. "What is it?" he barked sharply, not happy with being startled.

"I'm sorry, sir," came the voice of his secretary. "I tried to stop them but—"

"Tried to stop who?" He put two and two together, then swore. "I thought I told you that I wasn't to be disturbed today." It was distressing how hard it was to find a competent secretary. Time and time again, the idiot couldn't follow simple orders. He groaned and rubbed his temples. It was too bad that he couldn't convince Hermione to be his secretary. Then they could read the proposals together, and she could help him pick the winners. And then they could celebrate, on his desk of course. He smirked to himself as naughty thoughts raced through his head.

Meanwhile his thrice-damned secretary was still babbling. "They said they were Aurors, and that they were here on official business, and that they had to speak to you right now, and that they weren't going to take no for an answer, and then they just barged on through, and—"

Just then, his door blasted open. "What the fuck?" Draco cursed as he rose from his chair. He glowered at the smoky hole that used to be his office door. From the haze stepped out two figures.

"Looks like we finally found the ferret's hiding place," said Ron Weasley to Harry Potter. He let out a surprisingly high-pitched cackle, and Draco wondered if the ginger wizard was all there.

"And here I thought Aurors were supposed to give notice before they searched a place," Draco said. He leveled his best icy glare on his witch's best friends. He really didn't need this to happen, not today. He reflected mournfully that there was no way he was going to be able to finish reading the grant proposals today.

"If we told you that we were coming, then you'd know when to hide all the contraband," said Potter.

"I see. Funny. I thought that Internal Affairs had some sort policy against wanton destruction of private property. Or has Granger forgotten to show you how doorknobs work?" He was gratified to see the other two wizards blanch in fear, with Potter muttering about something being added to some list.

"You can take that up with Internal Affairs later tonight, if you want," said Weasley snidely.

The color drained from Draco's face. To his credit, his voice held none of the panic that he felt. "I am sure that I have no idea about what you're talking about." Potter and Weasley exchanged a glance, and he didn't like the look of it.

"That's funny. Because I kind of think you do," said Potter.

"Actually there's no think about it," added Weasley. He cracked his knuckles ominously.

"No surprise there. Since when have either of you had an independent thought?" He made a shooing motion with his hands. "Run along now. You've seen enough of my office to know that I'm not hiding any—what did you call it?—ah yes, contraband here. Do try not to destroy anything else. The Ministry does so hate it when I send them bills for cleaning up messes that Aurors made."

Instead of leaving, however, the two merely grinned at each other. Potter stepped forward, his wand out menacingly. "Oh well. We tried to get things done the easy way. I guess that just leaves the—"

"Oi! Hold up, Harry! We can't do that! Hermione'll kill us if we do!"

"What she doesn't know, won't hurt her."

"I'm not worried about her getting hurt. I kind of more worried about us. Do you know what she said she'd do to me the last time I broke one of her rules?" That last part came out as a squeak.

"Seems like Granger still has the both of you whipped," Draco noted. He couldn't help but smirk at the situation. Whatever Potter had in mind, clearly Hermione had outlawed it. He idly reached for his own wand, just in case Weasley wasn't able to make Potter see sense. However, his movement didn't go unnoticed.

"Don't even try it." Potter trained his wand on him. Then he grinned like the fool he was. "Or rather, go ahead. Make my day."

"Ixnay on the hexing, Harry. Remember what Hermione said. We can't curse a wizard who hasn't done anything wrong."

"Yet."

Weasley groaned. He covered his face with his hands. "And this is why we keep getting complaints. Because you can't control your bloody temper."

"I believe it was your idea to come down here," Potter shot back.

"Yeah, but I never meant to blow anything up." Weasley threw his hands up into the air. "But that's your first reaction, every time. If a door closes, well then one _Confringo_ will do the trick! Did you ever stop to think that it might be a bit overkill, Harry?"

Draco was beginning to feel amused, watching Potter and Weasley go back and forth. While he was still upset at how badly they had treated his door, it was entertaining to watch them argue about what to do next and how they were going to explain things to Hermione. _Maybe this is why she's put up with them for so long_, he thought. _So that she'll always have something to laugh at._

"Well, it gets the job done!" Potter was saying.

"Ever heard of a doorknob?" Weasley's voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Ever heard of a locking charm?"

"Ever heard of _Alohomora_?"

Potter crossed his arms. "That doesn't always work," he said sulkily.

"You could at least give it a try first." Weasley took a deep breath. Then he turned to glare at Draco. "But enough of this. We've lost sight of our purpose."

"Not my fault," Potter muttered under his breath.

"I'm going to be the bigger man and ignore that right now," said Weasley, plowing on straight ahead. "It has come to our attention, Malfoy, that you're not treating Hermione right."

Draco winced. He knew he should have made good his escape earlier while the two were arguing. He carefully considered his response, knowing how important it was to Hermione that her friends not find out that she was seeing their old enemy. "Care to fill me in on what you're talking about? I haven't seen Granger since—"

"Last night?" Potter bit out.

Draco ground his teeth together. Thinking fast, he said, "Why yes, I do believe she was across the room from me last night." Inwardly he congratulated himself on thinking of such a brilliant answer. Hermione had been across the room from him last night—right before she walked over to join him at their table.

"Was that before or after you decided to cut your date short?" asked Weasley.

"Date? Why I have—"

"No idea what we're talking about. You keep repeating yourself, Malfoy. Can't you come up with a new line?"

"And something more believable at that?" added Potter.

By now, his heart was beating so loudly that he was certain the other two wizards could hear it. _They know, they know_, he thought frantically. _Fuck. Who could have told them?_ Then a chilling thought came to him. _Dear Merlin. What will Hermione do? _His gut turned upside down and he knew he had to get out before he completely lost it.

He stepped forward, assuming a haughty air. "I have no more time to waste talking to fools. Believe you me, I have no plans to spend any time with Granger in the near future. Hopefully that should allay your concerns, whatever they may be," he said coldly. "Good day, gentlemen."

He shouldered his way past them before they knew what was happening. He stopped only to tell his secretary to have his door repaired and then Apparated home. Once there, he ignored his roommates' questions and locked himself in his room.

Draco collapsed on to his bed. _How could they have found out?_ He tore out his hair trying to figure out the answer that question. Sighing to himself, he got up and walked over to his desk. He scribbled a short note to Hermione, letting her know that he wouldn't be able to make it tonight. Then he returned to his bed, tossing and turning, as he argued with himself about how long it would be before Potter and Weasley mentioned their suspicions to Hermione. He dreaded her finding out, for he knew what her response would be. There was a reason why she didn't want anyone finding out about them. He only hoped that she would at least give him a chance to convince her that things could work out between them, between her friends and his family.

Draco lost track of time as he laid there considering his options. His head was beginning to ache from thinking too hard when a sharp rap sounded on his door. "There's someone here to see you," said Theo from just outside his room.

Draco didn't reply. He simply flipped over and stuffed a pillow over his head. He fervently ignored his friend's continued knocking at his door.

"I think it's a lost cause," Theo said to someone else, probably Greg.

"Then stand aside," a female voice commanded. Draco froze. That was Hermione.

"Best do what she says, mate," said Greg, sounding a bit farther away than the other two. "Trying to stop her from doing something is not a smart idea."

"Fine, fine. Good luck."

"I won't need luck," Hermione said confidently. "Draco, enough of this. Open your door. We need to talk."

He groaned out loud. He really didn't want to be having this conversation just now. He really wanted some time so he could come up with some sort of plan to convince her to stay. But the fact that she was here had to mean that she knew about her friends finding out about them. Deciding he could no longer postpone the inevitable, Draco got up and crossed the room. He was greeted with a look of concern from his girlfriend's brown eyes as he opened the door.

"Can I come in?" she asked.

He nodded. She walked, and he closed the door behind her. She sat down on the edge of his bed. He wanted to join her, but he didn't think that would be prudent. Instead, he stood across from her.

"You didn't get my owl?" he asked before she could say anything.

"I did," she replied. "But...some things happened today that made me think we need to have a talk."

Draco hung his head. "Let me guess. You want to take a break."

"What? No!" she exclaimed. "What makes you say that?"

He couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes. "I think your friends suspect something is going on."

"I know they don't," Hermione said softly.

He looked at her in disbelief. He couldn't believe his luck. _Could it be that they haven't said anything to her yet?_ He considered not challenging her statement, but he knew that she would find out in the end. He would rather get everything out in the open now. "But Hermione!" he cried. "They came to my office today, demanding to know what my intentions towards you were. If that's not having some suspicions, I don't know what is."

"Trust me. They didn't find out about us today." She took a deep breath. "I told them myself several months ago."

"What!" Now it was Draco's turn to exclaim. He paced around in a circle, trying to take in just what Hermione had told him. "You mean, they've known?"

"Yes."

"But I thought that you were—"

"Afraid of letting them know?" Hermione snorted in a most unladylike fashion. "Please. I've never been scared of those two. They claim to be mostly harmless, but that's a lie. They are completely harmless."

He gave her a look. "There are plenty of wizards and witches who would disagree with that assessment."

"Well, I imagine those wizards and witches haven't been responsible for pulling Harry and Ron's arses out of the fire too many times to count. I'll say it again. I'm not scared of my best friends. Not after everything we've been through." She suddenly looked down at her hands. "I didn't tell you because I thought you wanted to keep us a secret because you didn't want your parents to find out."

"But Hermione! I told you that I've not been able to keep a secret from my mother since I was three. I thought you knew that they knew, and that you wanted to…"

"Keep us a secret from Harry and Ron." Hermione smiled sadly. "And to think that we pride ourselves on being clever."

Draco sank down beside her, throwing his arm over her shoulders. "Merlin! What fools we mortals be!"

"My thoughts exactly, my love." She rested her head against him. "So what should we do now?"

"So Potter and Weasley both know?"

"My parents too. And I take it both your roommates know as well? Neither of them looked terribly surprised to see me."

"Yeah, they've known about us right from the start." He frowned. "How did you find out that my parents knew about us?"

"Your mother paid me a visit today and practically ordered me to eat lunch with you and your family on Saturday."

"And?"

"And what?"

"Will you do that? Have lunch with all of us?"

There was a brief pause. "Yes. I will. That's the next logical step, I suppose." She looked down and away from him. "I don't suppose you'll want to accompany to brunch at the Weasleys the day after," she said in a very small voice.

Draco winced at that idea. He didn't want to go. He couldn't imagine it being a very pleasant thing to be surrounded by so many Weasleys. However, it seemed only fair. "All right," he said. He gulped nervously before adding, "So long as you promise not to leave me alone with any of them."

Her head snapped around and she quirked up an eyebrow at him. "Don't tell me you're afraid of my friends?"

"Fine. I shan't tell you."

"But they're so…Merlin! I don't even know how to put it. Harry and Ron are just like a pair of over-sized puppies. Mischievous to be sure, but never malicious."

"That's the first time I've ever heard Potter and Weasley being referred to as puppies," he drawled. "Do they know you talk about them that way?"

She tossed her head up and sniffed. "I'm sure I don't care. Besides, if anyone should be asking for protection, it should be me. You better not leave me alone with either your mother or your father."

"Excuse me? All right, I understand why my father might be intimidating. But my mother? She's the sweetest lady you'll ever meet."

She shot him a look of pure disbelief. "You cannot be serious." She shuddered. "Well, leaving that aside, how about a deal? Seeing how I'll be meeting your parents first and all…so long as that goes well enough, I promise to make sure my friends are on their best behavior."

It was on the tip of Draco's tongue to ask what would happen if his parents were difficult, but the smirk on Hermione's face was answer enough. He could only admire her suggestion; it was the sort of deal he would have suggested for himself if they were going to visit her friends first. His lovely witch clearly should have been a Slytherin.

"Deal," he said and leaned over to give her a kiss to seal the bargain. Regardless of what happened this weekend, he knew good things were to come. The two of them were too clever and sneaky not to come out ahead.

In the end, he was willing to bet that neither his friends and family nor hers would know what hit them.

* * *

**Author's note:** I hope you liked this short fic. Please review and let me know what you think. :D


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